Siren's Honour rewritten
by quiet.recluse
Summary: A siren in exile as penance-a prince brought close to the edge of death. Two warring sides of the gods, two different beings, a whole lot of trials. Their lives collide, and destiny begins.
1. Chapter 1

**As I said before, here's the rewritten version of Siren's Honour! I'm trying to do the re-writes quickly, because I have to update other stories, but I promise this version will be clearer, and hopefully less drony, than the last. Have fun!**

**Thank you to those who reviewed the original version of this!**

**Disclaimer (for the whole story): I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, or Sirena, which was what this story was inspired from. I own the OCs. Any song lyrics I use in this story, I do not own either-they belong to Utada Hikaru.**

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Sighing in satisfaction, I heaved myself out of the ocean water and onto a flat, protruding rock. A slight breeze blew chilly against my pale, wet skin, and I closed my eyes, better to enjoy the scene around me.

The sky above was impossibly blue and glorious-Zeus was in a good mood-and the day felt tranquil and relaxing, an atmosphere comfortable for just lazing about. In the distance, I could hear my many sisters chatting and laughing together, positioned at an island a very short distance away. I supposed I should go and join them, but I couldn't be bothered moving.

My sisters used to be concerned about my wandering away from them in the past, but after awhile, my occasional wandering became a habit they got used to, and they merely accepted it without too many questions. My dear sisters-without their company, I would have rotted long ago on the little grassy island we lived on, waiting for ships to come.

Several screeches from the island vultures pierced the serenity of the day, and I abruptly opened my eyes. A warning for us-a ship was coming.

I quickly rejoined my sisters, and we each positioned ourselves on the little island we dwelled on, fish tails coiled tensely into spirals of different colours. Mine flashed pale aquamarine in the sunlight, the same colour as my eyes, with tints of sunlight shining on morning dew. Despite its jewel quality, I draped seaweed over it, hiding it completely, and proceeded to pin some locks of my straight black hair behind my ear with a blue starfish. The rest of my hair fell loosely to my waist, while my midnight-blue side fringes slightly fell over my temples.

Around me, I watched my sisters do what I was doing-that is, beautifying themselves. We aimed to seduce; starfish in thick, dark hair, kelp arranged sensually over fishtails. We flaunted everything human, but hid the fish part of us. The human men, unless enchanted, would think us revolting if they saw the fish part of us.

One last check to make sure everyone was ready, and then we began to sing.

Our voices carried through the still air, sweet as honey. This was Mother Dora, our mentor's, gift; the gift of enchanting with songs. Our only way to gain immortality alongside our god and goddess relations was for a mortal man to love us. Our song could enchant and coerce the men into thinking we had no fish parts, and make them see us as the most beautiful women on earth. Thus why we flaunted almost every human part of ourselves, as temptation.

The winds changed course. No!

It blew against us, carrying our voices in the opposite direction of the ship. We sang harder, trying to force it through the gale, but it was no use. The ship sailed out of reach of our voices. We stopped, and sank into gloomy silence, slowly untangling ourselves from the carefully draped kelp.

I mentally cursed Rhodope, the goddess who placed this curse upon us. Her jealousy was the cause of our unnecessary pain.

Long ago, she was lovers with a god, but this one was a fickle god. After sleeping with Rhodope, as she lay asleep, he spied a beautiful but extremely stupid fish of great beauty, almost unrivalled. He slept with the fish, and the next morning, when Rhodope woke, the fish had laid all of her fertilized eggs in a nearby cave and left. In a rage, Rhodope swallowed the eggs, only to choke them back up when they began to swell with growth. So she cursed the eggs (us), to never be immortal unless loved by a mortal man.

The thought of being intimate with a man was almost off limits to me-I wouldn't let my imagination wander that far. Instead, I focused on helping my sisters lure a ship. Our tactic was just to enchant sailors with our voices to forget our fishtails and make them love us. From that, we would gain immortality and stand equal among the other gods, qualities that we should have had from birth right.

The island vultures slowly settled down, since no more ships came into sight. With a sigh, I slipped down into the water beside one of my sisters (the most beautiful of us admittedly), Himerope.

"Rhodope wishes to make this difficult," she sighed.

"But nothing can stop us sister," I assured. Changing the topic to a more cheerful one, I asked with excitement, "Are we going to Mother Dora's sea cave soon?"

Visiting Mother Dora was a highlight for all of us. All mermaids, nymphs and sirens loved stories, and Mother Dora told one each time we gathered at her cave.

"In half a moon cycle, Charis," Himerope laughed. I laughed along too. We all wanted to get away from this island, despite its…quiet charm. It was a grassy island large enough for all of us to spread out at many different places and still be heard to each other. Yellow flowers grew all over the slopes quaintly.

It was charming in a simple way, but change would be pleasant.

"Don't go wondering off today, Charis," Himerope told me as we swum lazy circles around the island. "The vultures are muttering that another ship will come by soon."

I nodded. "Of course, Himerope. We all want to be free of our…fault," I said seriously. She smiled encouragingly at me, and then swum lazily away.

* * *

Oh! The vultures have circled our island, screeching again. They bespoke in our universal, nonsensical language about three trading ships from a far away land called Arabia, sailing on course to come near our island. After hastily beautifying ourselves, my sisters and I positioned ourselves all over the island, waiting.

The ships approached. We began to sing, the melody as clear as glass bells.

Winds suddenly blew against us. Spiteful Rhodope! Her hatred knew no bounds on us, I was sure.

It was too late to foil our plans though-the ships were far to close, heading straight for the hidden rocks under the water, ready to tear the ships apart. We sang and sang until our throats were raw, then kept singing anyway. Enraptured they came faster. We could even begin to see some of the men rowing the oars.

_Crack!_

The first ship ripped apart in the rocky reefs. Only then did the men wake from the enchantment of our music. They cried out in panic and struggled to turn their other boats around but it was no use. A second resounding _Crack!_ Echoed through the air, and men fell into the water. Their cries of terror filled the air like vulture screams.

Sadly for us, the third ship managed to sail away. However, we succeeded in luring the first two! Laughing, we waited shyly. Some muttered, wondering what a first kiss would be like. I dared not let my thoughts wonder to something like that-yet.

We were so delighted by our success that it took us a few minutes to realise something was wrong. Only a few of the men had swum to shore. Where were the others? There was plenty of commotion in the water, and screams and thrashing. But not many were actually moving to shore. What was taking them so long?

Horror slapped us harshly across our faces. They couldn't swim!

We dove and split in all directions. I took hold of a short, burly man close to me and pulled him up. He did not thrash or scream like the others. Quickly I hauled him to shore. Then I checked his breathing. No air came from his mouth or nose, and his chest lay still. His skin was cold and clammy as a fish. I pounded on his chest and breathed into his mouth briefly, but it was no use. He was dead.

Around me, my sisters cried and screamed in growing agony as we pulled bodies from the water. More were dead then alive. My sisters and I dove as fast as we could, but our will to save them all was in vain. Gradually our diving slowed, as we realised that whatever we found by now would be cold and dead.

In the end eleven men survived, six of which were the ones who swam to shore. Eighteen lay dead on the beach. Breathless, cold and lifeless. Many more were dragged too far under by the ocean currents to be fetched safely. Even more dead. I breathed through a great amount of effort, anguished by this loss.

The survivors huddled together in a cold, dripping group, glaring at us with hostility. They feared us, and blamed us. The hatred in their eyes was apparent. But were we to blame? How could we have known that these men could not swim? Shouldn't sailors have learnt how to swim before climbing onto a boat? My sisters and I shed tears over the dead bodies of the men, lined up side by side. The torment continued on in my head. I couldn't help but think that this was our fault, though my sisters muttered half-heartedly against it.

The survivors moved closer to the bodies of their dead comrades. One stepped forward. His eyes spat revulsion like snakes spat venom.

"Get away! Get away from them!" he shouted.

Frightened, we dove back into the water and watched them mournfully from a distance. He continued to glare at us, and many of my sisters, in an effort to ease the enmity, tried to make their faces soft and sweet-innocent. The men never dropped their hostile glares though, and I had a feeling they would glare at our kind like that for the rest of their days.

"What unnatural spirits are you?!" he asked, standing possessively over the bodies of his fallen comrades. "Stay away,"

Our tears added more salt to the sea at their vehemence.

The man motioned to the others, and they began to look for places to bury the dead, but the bare island only had a shallow layer of dirt. Everywhere they tried to dig, they struck solid rock. Each time they cursed and moved on. We watched, circling listlessly around the island.

Everything had gone wrong. We had to make them forgive us; make them understand we didn't know the others could not swim. We needed to gain their forgiveness, and if still possible, their love.

The men returned to their previous clustering spot. Instantly we opened our mouths and sang softly, our voices dripping anguish, hoping to make them understand us and gain forgiveness. If anything could win them, it would be our song.

I doubted they would listen anymore though, and I was right. The leader picked up a rock and threw it at us.

"Silence! There is no fresh water on this island. There are no animals except three vultures. No plants except for lilies. This is an uninhabitable island, a hell above ground. Damn you! Damn you all!" he screamed in rage, and threw another rock. "We should have listened to other passing sailors. They warned us of you, but thought the vultures had sung, when it was really your wretched song. You. Misshapen wretched monsters of the deep, seductresses of evil."

"No! We are not like that!" I cried out, unable to bear their accusations.

"Silence!" he screamed again. "Do not speak. Do not sing. We will allow no more treachery."

He pressed his hands to his cheeks and looked heavenwards. "Oh gods, have pity on us. Help us escape."

He picked up another rock, and his living comrades followed his example. They showered us with the rocks of their hatred.

* * *

The sailors carried rocks with them everywhere. They threatened to kill us if we came close. Two strong swimmers searched for wreckage that might be rebuilt into a smaller boat, even a raft. Their attempts were valiant, but unsuccessful. All the remaining boards were smashed into pieces too small to be used, and not enough had survived the pull of the water currents.

While they rested, we tried to help as much as we could. We also scavenged for materials, and what we found we piled as close to the men as we dared to go before fleeing.

The men eyed our piles with suspicion, but eventually came and sifted through the rubble. They weren't much good though; if the disappointed sighs were any sign to go by.

When darkness fell, the men retreated to the inner part of the island. We fled to the rocks on the lower side of the island, and listened to their sobs of terror and cries for help as nightmares haunted their sleep.

In the morning they tried fishing, but to no avail. They muttered about nets. We searched for nets in the ocean, but there was none to find. They ate small amounts of clams and snails found in tidal pools. Two swimmers continually searched for wreckage again, but had even less success than the first time.

Without any human hope left for survival, they turned to divine intervention. The men cursed the hot sun, and then begged for forgiveness of the sun god Helios. They prayed to Zeus for rain. They found conch shells which they rested hole-side up, as hopeful receptacles of rain. Alma (the sweetest of my sisters), touched by their faith and hopeful the gods would listen, dove and found an old unused tortoise shell. She put it on the beach, and we watched as the evident leader of these men examined it with his eyes. Finally he looked at us in confusion, and grabbed the shell.

The next morning came, seemingly like any recent other. The men muttered amongst themselves, and then one of the stronger swimmers fashioned a crude spear from some driftwood. He walked into the water, shouting he would kill us if we came near, and then dove.

The others waited tensely for his return. Their skins were red and peeling, their lips cracked and even sometimes bleeding. They breathed heavily through their mouths, tongues lolling out in thirst, like an animal dying in the heat. Which they almost were.

I scanned the skies desperately-no sign of rain. This time of year was not the season for rain. An idea came to me, and I darted away from my sisters, in case I was doing something dangerous.

"Eat the lilies!" I shouted. "They hold liquid."

"Help!" Cecilia, one of my more generous sisters, suddenly appeared near me. She dove again, and we sisters followed. As we went deeper, we saw the problem. The swimmer's hunger had made him reckless, and he had tried hunting a positively giant octopus. His spear lay broken on the sea bed, and the man himself was entwined within a mass of thick, pulsing tentacles. He was alarmingly still.

The octopus spat an ink cloud in anger at our approach, and released the man, opting to swim away.

We pulled the body to shore, but brave, kind Cecilia dragged it up onto the beach while we cowered back. She leaned over the body and wailed softly in pure anguish, wavy brown hair partly draped over the dead swimmer's face.

The other men were scattered here and there. One of them sprang forward, enraged, and dragged Cecilia to a higher hill of dirt by her hair. We never went that far inland-land was generally not safe territory for us daughters of the ocean.

Cecilia cried and sobbed in pain as her body bumped along the ground, and she clutched at her scalp helplessly. Within moments the men were upon her, slamming rocks on her, smashing her head and ribs bloody.

We screamed helplessly in the sea-animal instinct kept us away. If we went onto the land, they would surely kill us all. But staying in the water was torture. We screamed and clutched at each other, until we near deafened each other with our noise. I couldn't even hear my own scream of terror.

Eventually the bashing slowed and stopped-after a long, torturous while. The leader threw lilies over Cecilia's blood-matted hair.

"Vicious whores from hell!" He spat on what was once the heart shaped face of Cecilia. We were stunned into deathly silence.

"Putrid flowers. You grow them to deceive sailors into thinking this rock of an island welcomes them. Then you beg us to eat them. They are poison to our souls! Stay away or we will kill you all and throw these accursed flowers over you."

His words seemed like the echo inside a hollow mountain. I couldn't think properly.

These men were doomed.

My sister lay dead.

Everything had gone _wrong_.

"Charis! Come back, or you'll die too!" some of my sisters cried. I was beyond any state to listen though.

I swam, as far as I could. Though I was fast with my fishtail, it was dangerous for me to be alone in the sea, especially at night when predator fish came out. That was why sirens sheltered on the edges of rocks in groups. But I was no longer aware of where I was, or how long I had been swimming. I just wanted to keep swimming until I fell into oblivion.

As dawn came, the impeding exhaustion won. I floated on the ocean surface and wept.

Eventually I passed a rock where seals were playing and teaching their pups. It reminded me of my sisters, and I looked away.

For days I did nothing. Float, swim, eat and rest. My head was an empty shell. I couldn't-no, _wouldn't_ think. I didn't even care if I was eaten. Day after scorching day, night after chilly night I drifted…nowhere.

Well, I thought it was nowhere. Eventually though, I looked ahead and saw the little island with the three vultures flying around it. My instincts had slowly carried me back home. For a moment, I hesitated in facing my sisters. Then I licked my lips, salty from ocean water, and consented to the unavoidable. I swam towards my sisters.

I wasn't even close when the stench of dead, decaying bodies assailed me. I recoiled but continued forward grimly.

The vultures had picked off the flesh, scavengers as they were. The quaint little island we once lived on peacefully, which I had known for sixteen years, had become an open grave for those doomed sailors. The island's flowers seemed to shrink downwards rather than upwards, closing their petals against the gruesome scene.

"Charis! Thank goodness," Alma swam up to greet me, hugging me tightly. "We didn't know what happened to you."

"Are they all dead?" I asked hopelessly. Mutely she nodded, with tears in her eyes. I felt my own tears stream down my cheeks, and Alma held me and led me to a different rock. Looking at the rest of my sisters, I could not help but see our number. We were ten sisters before, now reduced to nine.

"We waited for you," Himerope told me sadly. "It hurts when you go off without us. We watched day and night."

I understood at once and regretted swimming off. We were a school of mermaids, or sirens, as bluntly distinguished. We found comfort and cheer in numbers. I was just the odd one, but I belonged with them nonetheless.

We slept on the new rock, away from the horrors of death.

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**Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

**I forgot to mention, that this story will have exactly the same storyline as its original. I'm just fixing up chapter lengths, grammar (though it's not one of my good points) and etc.**

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Flickers of sunlight penetrated through the shallow water, and danced over the shimmery fishtail bodies of my sisters, creating a vast aura of different colours. On the sea bed, crabs and shellfish scuttled away to areas that wouldn't be disturbed by us.

We had been swimming for a whole day, ever since one of my sisters had heard from the vultures that Mother Dora was at her grotto, waiting for all of us to come visit her as we usually did once a summer.

Mother Dora was wife to Nereus, the old Man of the Sea, and was daughter of the god Oceanus. She was a wonderful storyteller, and had treated us with kindness in the past. She was the reason why we still had a half-chance of being immortal, why we were even still alive. We swam towards her, hoping to gain comfort in our grief and suffering through her retelling of our origins.

We passed over ruined, submerged human towns. I would have loved to explore them, but wandering off right now would worry my sisters. A sea turtle had accompanied us for a long while without stop, but she still did not tire. I admired her diligence, even if she only came because the way we were going was trailed with clumps of edible sea grass.

When we arrived, Mother Dora was already waiting, seated on her storytelling rock. She surveyed us warmly. Though she wasn't our direct kin, she was as close to a relative as we would ever get. She was always kind to us, and I often wished she was our true mother. Though soon after that thought I would reluctantly rethink it, because then that retched Rhodope would be my sister, a horrible thought. Also, it was sometimes unnerving that she could see the future of decisions-her greatest ability.

"Ten mermaids are missing-an entire school," her majestic voice echoed through the grotto.

We drew breath sharply-Mother Dora was the mother of all of us sea sisters, including sirens and nymphs. She accounted us as fifty, before Cecilia was killed. She gave a nod in our school's direction, and I realised that she already knew of her death.

A nymph, named Amphitrite, appeared beside me. She opened her mouth to speak, and a swill of bubbles swirled around her head.

"The ten from the north river are not coming, mother."

The words were a blow to us. Normally, five schools of mermaids sat to hear Mother Dora's stories. After her leave, we siren mermaids would have singing competitions. Our river sisters had always won those competitions with their voices; silky, smooth to hear, and almost tangible in their richness. Everyone said that they would be the first to have men love them, and consequently the first to gain immortality.

It did not seem like they survived long enough to get the chance.

Mother Dora nodded silently, eyes grim. We all mourned in silence for a few minutes. Our tears became a part of the sea, testimony of our anguish.

"Grim indeed. After our storytelling, all of you must return together to your homes. Mourn your distant sisters as one, but you must remember that you are unique. You make the waters you inhabit special above all other bodies of water." Mother Dora often said this to raise our spirits. She made us feel extraordinary, chosen and blessed. Even if really, we were cursed. The illusion felt much better though.

She then began the story we all loved to hear. She began with a description of her daughters generally.

"All my nymph daughters are lovely. But Rhodope, we must admit, was the daring nymph. Daring brings rewards." She paused. "And costs."

It was like she was looking specifically at me. I swallowed. Maybe she knew of my ventures alone, and was warning me. To stay put.

"It was that daring nature that sent Rhodope out to seas alone, and to circle the earth. One fateful day she travelled to a coral reef of incomparable beauty, and within the crevice of a cave, found a slumbering parrot fish."

"The parrot fish, your mother, shimmered with every colour imaginable-countless blues, mysterious greens, dark purples and soft pinks. White balanced her colours. Rhodope named the fish Little Iris, after the goddess of the rainbow. She caged the parrot fish." Mother Dora walked among us, majestic yet so much like a mortal woman, but she was really an immortal goddess. Her voice became softer.

"Eros, the god of desire and love, was waiting for Rhodope when she returned from her adventures. Eros made love with Rhodope."

She chuckled slightly. I could have sworn she genuinely liked the god. I never wanted to meet him personally, even if he was my own father-his personality would clash with the less fickle.

"Then, while she slept, Eros' lusting eyes fell on Little Iris. Eros seduced little Iris. It didn't take much-Iris was stupid, like any other normal fish. When Rhodope awoke, she saw Little Iris' white eggs shining and realised the betrayal. In her fury, she swallowed the eggs." Mother Dora stopped walking then, and returned to her original spot.

"Little Iris watched without remorse. She did not realise they were her eggs, in her stupidity."

My white, curved nails dug into my palm. Our mother was very stupid. We knew that. So why did Mother Dora dwell on it today? It was obvious fish knew little-they were made to suit their basic needs, and not every fish was visited by a god. Especially a god like Eros. I told myself to calm down. It was just part of Mother Dora's storytelling.

"But Rhodope could not keep all of you down, and when your eggs started enlarging, she was forced to spit them out, one by one."

She would pop if she kept us in, I thought. It would serve her right too.

"By the influence of another god, one of the eggs was taken in and changed to also become one of their daughters."

What? I had not heard of this before.

"The egg encountered the magic of the gods of Egypt. They did nothing to her, but merely give a prophecy. 'This one shall be daughter of two nations.'"

I leaned forward with my other sisters, eager to know who the one that came from the blessed egg was. Mother Dora looked at us searchingly, and then sighed.

"Unfortunately, none of us know who this one was. A servant merely came to tell Zeus, and then vanished to his own realm again." We groaned slightly-our curiosity disappointed. She smiled and went on with the normal story.

"I helped Rhodope collect all of you. But when I took all of you, I put you somewhere away from her eyes." We murmured, thankful she had saved us. Again, we felt the unity of mermaid schools joining.

"However, Eros knew, and is loose with all body parts-including the tongue. In fact, it is amazing you have any brains at all, with such parents."

Her remark confused us, and stung like the painful tentacles of a jellyfish. I felt my anger return, hotter then before. She did it again, dwelling on stupidity. It infuriated me, despite the fact she saved us. We were not so stupid creatures. Otherwise she would not have saved us anyway.

Mother Dora smiled. "I tease," she said. A little late. Some of us were already hurt by her remark. She continued on like nothing happened.

"Rhodope cursed you then: Unlike fish, unlike gods, you are forbidden to couple with your brothers or father."

Sadness filled the room. Our brothers were banished to Oceanus' waters the day we were cursed. The vultures told us they were eaten by a pod of whales in a sea where towering cliffs of ice built up. We cried together when we heard that-what a horrid way to die! After hearing that news I again drifted off alone, and later concluded that though they died, we could try to cheer up their souls by doing our best for them. My sisters agreed, cheered, and Alma had hugged me tightly.

Mother Dora came to an almost unbearable part of the story. "And, like humans, you are mortal."

Even though we had heard the words before, they still felt like a slap across the face.

Mother Dora searched for someone to help her story along. She points at one. Uri, a sister from a different school, was chosen. Lucky Uri.

"Unless…!" she shouted.

Mother Dora lifted her hands spread. "Unless a human should become your mate. Only then would you gain immortality." She smiled at us all. "That is why I gave you the gift of song. With song you can win human love."

Her tale at an end, Mother Dora bowed at the applause and cheers from everyone. I could not bring myself to clap too though. I wanted to know how our gift was so wondrous and useful, if they could potentially kill people. The faces of the previous dead floated into my head, and I quickly pushed them away.

Mother Dora stepped onto the rock again. Strange, usually she was done by now. She regarded us gravely, and we fell quiet under her regal gaze.

"My mermaids, you must be told of events which until now, have been kept quiet." We listened intently, for she commanded attention.

"The dispute between the gods of Greece and Egypt has not ended. We will have no more to do with them instead, as they will not have anything to do with us. This is our agreement," she said. We grew wide eyed. Never had we been allowed to hear this information.

"Therefore, we ask that all of you do not interact with any Egyptian mortals. All Egyptians will be watched by their gods, and we do not wish to interact further. Such until their 'chosen one' comes; we will exist without dispute of our ways." Murmuring broke out for a few moments. It would not be hard to avoid Egyptians-they were rarely in Greece except for trade, and their ships did not normally go as far out to sea as we sirens dwelled.

Mother Dora contradicted this with her next words.

"The Greek mortals and Egyptian mortals have been close to war for a long time. Now they seek to negotiate a wary peace, but both sides are bringing armies for protection to their designated meeting point. The Egyptian ships are not to be lured, lest you wish to deal with the Egyptian gods. We can offer no help if that happens." We gasped in horror.

None of us would dare try and lure them with this warning, I thought grimly. Facing unknown gods from a different culture, the very ones that our gods have been disagreeing with, without help, would be too frightening for words.

Suddenly Mother Dora smiled. She raised her voice.

"The Egyptian ships are admittedly bigger then the ordinary Greek ships. Their prows are undecorated except some which occasionally bear a picture of an eye." We gave a collective shudder, imagining gory images of eyeballs freshly plucked from live creatures. "This should make it easier to distinguish," she said.

"But there will also be plenty of Greek boats sailing, probably far more than Egyptian ones. Boats filled with Greek men," she said, smiling.

We understood. This was a bigger chance for us to lure men and make them love us, to gain immortality. We would try even harder now we knew, and not be lax. That was why we saw three Greek ships in one day, a rare feat. Maybe not so rare anymore.

"You must not be stupid." Mother Dora's words caught us by surprise. We watched her once again.

"You are of age, my beauties. Age sixteen, turning seventeen in little more than a year. This is your best opportunity, when many ships will sail."

I didn't understand though why she was suddenly lecturing us. Really, I didn't understand why for so long, and even now, we still regarded these passing ships as opportunities. They weren't. We could hurt more men by continuing to lure them with our voices. I moved closer, hoping her eyes would fall on me, and bid me speak.

She did look at me, but did not address me directly. "I saved you, little mermaids, and do not forget it. I know what's best for you. You mustn't be idiots. You must do this perfectly."

I moved closer yet again, hoping to ask what exactly he wanted us to do-lure and possibly kill?

Mother Dora turned away from me, dismissing me.

"If you win lovers, my seas can be graced with mermaids forever. Beautiful mermaids to match my beautiful nymph daughters. Forever." She looked at us lovingly. "Immortality."

She said just the right words to charm all of us. Every one of us craved immortality and acceptance. I had envied every god known, because they could never grow old. They could not be killed.

But did we have to sing? Wasn't there a less…dangerous way of gaining what we wanted?

Before I could ask, Mother Dora left the grotto. Mermaids around me broke out in excited chatter. I drifted to a corner by myself, confused.

Singing was our gift, our blessing, a way to immortality.

But how many others would it hurt?

My sisters swam around me, laughing, asking other schools how we could improve our singing-not letting the deaths of several men plague their minds. We did not want to hurt people. We wanted to win men over though, as painlessly as possible and certainly without any casualties. How to do so though? All we knew was singing; something I was beginning to realise was dangerous.

So many vague questions, so many more that were verbally undefinable-amidst the carefree laughter of my sisters, I felt like a floundering fool.

* * *

I had been napping on flat rock, unconsciously enjoying the heat of the blinding midday sun, when I was woken from my doze by excited chattering. Waking up, I heard the loud, raucous crowing of the guardian birds. Quickly I slipped into the cool salt water and glided towards the place my sisters were gathered at. Well, all four schools' sisters. As Mother Dora had told us to do, we had stayed together as a gigantic school of mermaids. As I came closer, I heard what made all of them so excited.

A band of ships. All of them were Greek.

Aglaope, a sister mermaid from another school, called out, "We will take our positions when the ships approach the first of the underwater islands ahead."

I watched, confused. Were they going to try and lure the ships here? Granted, the other schools had not seen what my school had seen, but surely my closer sisters remembered the horror and death that came after luring ships?

Everyone was now taking positions on the expansive rock flat we gathered at, fishtails coiled around each other, a blend of shimmering colours. Quickly, I swam to Himerope, and tugged on her tail. She pushed me away. I tugged harder, and she flicked slightly with her tail. Frustrated and too impatient, I bit her tail.

Alma, the sweetest of my closer sisters, the one most like our peacemaker, slapped me across the face. Hard.

Stunned, I cradled one cheek. Himerope stretched out one hand, gently patting my stinging cheek. "Do not interfere, Charis."

I couldn't believe it. "Don't you remember what happened before, with the other ships? The men drowned." It hurt to say that, to recall the memory, but surely it affected them too?

"We have arranged stations to be at. When the ships wreck, we will go and pull the men from the sea," was the reply. What? I had not heard this plan, and I said so aloud.

"That is because you do not pay attention Charis. We talk when you wander off, and when you are asleep."

They planned without me? How could they go behind my back like that? We were a school, and were not meant to exclude others. Though my main objective right now was to make the others see sense. "Their ships will wreck. They will die here."

My sister set her lip stubbornly. Already, the first waves of an irresistible melody had risen, sweet and promising. "We will save them. They will love us."

"There is no food or water here. They will hate us," I argued. My sister was impatient to sing as one with the others. I could not give in this time, however. This was where our differences would collide, possibly revealing their morals and mine. Maybe that was why I was so different to them-why sometimes I wandered off alone instead of with company.

"They will love us first," she said with finality, and added her own delicious voice to the melody.

I could not believe my sisters would risk the lives of others like this. There would be at least some that would drown, I was certain. I observed all the mermaids in desperation, but they were also desperate, for these men to give them immortality. It made rigid lines across their bare, pale shoulders and body.

Alma and Himerope both beckoned to me. "Come Charis." I did not linger this time, I dove underwater and headed for where the ships were expected to wreck at. All around me, like the humid air of a stifling day, the song of my sisters rose, blanketing the area, compelling and promising sailors things that would not come true. I would not join.

Instead, I swam out to meet the boat, desperate to save these men. My sisters were probably so caught up in singing as beautifully and seductively as they could, that they would not see me.

The men on the boats were already deeply enchanted. Their glazed eyes and jerky, rapid movements towards my sisters told this. I leapt like one of the dolphins I had observed before, and grabbed onto an oar for attention.

"Stop! Turn back!" I shouted as loudly as I could.

The men around that part of the ship looked at me, dumbfounded. No doubt a half woman, half fish that hung onto an oar like a barnacle shocked them. One man shouted something. A second later an explosion of pain burned across my back as an oar was slammed into it, luckily on its flat side, but still quite forcefully. I slipped off into the water, and felt blood from deep scratches slide down my back in small rivulets. It stung even worse in the salty water. I drifted and was swept aside by a violent current. Fighting it, I rose above the surface, gasping, some distance away from the wrecking point.

There were crashes and splintering sounds as the boats wrecked. The screams and thrashing began. Bodies began to drift upwards in the water motionlessly, increasing in number as minutes passed. I was too stunned to move, and the current carried me out further into the sea. I didn't care, I couldn't think. Once again I was locked within the clutches of a nightmare turned reality.

More people had died. It was this cursed voice of enchanting, used wrongly, but sirens were bound by Rhodope to continue its use until they found love. She must have known long ago that this gift of singing desirably would turn us into the real monsters that humans accused us of being. Sirens were _cursed_ to be monsters.

Even though I did not participate this time, I was still one of them, locked in this role. My sisters and I had no choice but to be monsters-right?

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**Please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you to _Aryaine_ for the review! Very much appreciated.**

**This chapter might be a little boring. Introduction of a character we all know from YGO and all...**

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No. I refused to remain a monster! At least in personality. I would change, no matter what it took, and I would keep my honour clean. If I kept it clean, kept trying to be a good person, then I wouldn't regard myself as a monster anymore.

This was a goal I developed several days after that fall out with my sisters. Several days of floating and reflecting, evaluating morals and deliberating on a decision. It was only after making that resolution that I roused myself to begin moving voluntarily. By then, the forceful ocean drifts I had been caught in had carried me far, far away from my sisters.

There was no way I could go back to them-the screams of those who died, and the hateful comments about sirens would forever be in my mind. I wouldn't be able to live with my sisters anymore, live the same desperate yet playful lives they did, because I held a different outlook to life. My memories with them were tarnished. I could still hear the slap Alma gave me, for resisting, the ruthlessly careless way they dismissed that people might drown due to being wrecked. No, I couldn't return to them. It was time to start my own life.

There was an island that could be found if you navigated by the stars. The island of Lemnos was once an island populated by men and women. Then the women rose up against the men for their abuse and sneering ways towards women, and killed all except the king. The king they put in a sealed chest and set him adrift in the sea. When he broke out, he swam to the nearest shore and walked through the lands ceaselessly, as far as his legs would take him, telling of what he saw. Half deranged as he had become, people took heed of his warning, and none came to Lemnos since. Fairly sensible, but they probably never looked further into the future, where the population would be dead now as there were no men to born babies with.

The women of the island had died a long time ago, and the island was bare of any humans. I would live there. I would take care of this body, half fish and half human, feed and nurture it, and that was all. I would have to throw away my petty day dreams of love and live alone. Immortality just wasn't worth the price-the screaming, the deaths, and the guilt. Life, I suddenly realised, was worth more than immortality. That was one of my newly voiced morals.

My past wasn't clean. But I could start over on a clean slate. A siren who kept her honour clean would then only be a monster in appearance, not in heart or soul. Here on this deserted island I wouldn't harm anybody with my singing instinct, and I could try and crush that with silence. If it couldn't be completely crushed (I was sure the siren instinct to sing couldn't be eradicated) I just wouldn't sing in front of people.

For days I travelled. The wounds on my back healed within the first two days, since cuts like those could be compared to large skin scrapes on humans. Sirens had the ability to heal faster than humans. The ability was needed in a place where creatures could be cut on coral or rocks often when swimming.

During the first few days travelling, I was scared, and never slept properly for fear of being attacked by something. I had never travelled this far alone before, in oceans that were unfamiliar to me (since I had not travelled in these parts often before). That was when I discovered another thing-independence. My siren sisters and I had relied on each other for support, comfort, safety and entertainment. Since I was alone now, I had to adjust to doing things alone

In consequence of trying to prove to myself that I could be independent, I did some truly idiotic things. Swimming with stinging jellyfish for example, was not a safe thing to do, no matter how elegant and beautiful the translucent jellyfish looked. Sneaking closely past a group of squid when one could just circle far away from them was also not a good idea-their tentacles are not a sensation anyone would want to feel. I learnt quickly what risks I should and shouldn't take.

That wasn't to say I didn't have fun. I swam with turtles and seals, played with crabs (and avoided their pincers) and learnt to leap like a dolphin-though my landings weren't very graceful, being largely more bulky in shape than a dolphin. Swimming was the only talent I was graceful in, it seemed.

So much for my name-Charis meant graceful in Greek. I'd have to ask Mother Dora whether that name only referred to my swimming. If I ever met her again one day. Most probably not.

Several days later, I sat on a beach, staring at my new surroundings in awe.

The beach I rested on was small, but had clean, yellow white sand, as inviting as warm sunlight. Trees grew sparsely, growing gradually thicker as it went further inland. Looking at the night stars, I saw the star I was navigating by, and realised this was Lemnos.

It was prettier than I expected. But then again, with the bloody legend of the dethroned king, what was I meant to expect?

Even if deserted, the island was charming in its own way. I liked its quaintness and peacefulness. Here, I would not be seen by humans or siren sisters, as it was too far for them to bother travelling, with waters infested with dangerous creatures such as squids.

Pushing my loose hair back, I was reminded once again of how much I revealed of my torso, with only my long black and blue hair as cover. The reed shirt I had worn days ago had slipped off during my travels. Well, I knew what I was going to be doing for the next few days. Exploring home, gathering things.

The next day I started weaving a shirt made out of kelp. This time, to keep it in place for when I swam, I worked out how to attach strong knotted kelp so it looped around my pale, long neck. It covered my breasts, starting from my armpits, and stopped a few finger widths above from where my fish tail started, showing off a hint of my white stomach. Maybe a bit tight, but it was better then the nakedness sirens flaunted to sailors normally, to seduce. I wanted nothing to do with seduction anymore-I was not going to seduce anyone on this deserted island anyway.

I found a small cave just near the beach to sleep in, hidden out of sight behind scrubs and tall, hardy trees growing close together. There was a sand bank at the back of the cave that remained, even at high tide, so I could rest there, half in and half out of the water that met the sand. Somewhere on the island I could smell freshwater, a clean, pure smell different to the salt of the sea, probably a freshwater river.

Curiosity drove me to explore the island inland the morning after. I explored the human houses, though my tail did ache afterwards from bumping and dragging it on the ground. The island was truly deserted, the inhabitants had died so long ago that even the burial grounds for the dead had become a place of vines. Curiously enough, tall yellow yarrow grew there, as if a continually blooming gift to the dead. I did not spend long there, for the dead should be left at peace. When I did come near, it was to give respects to the dead, well, those who had not slaughtered anyway, and to sprinkle a bit of sea water

My days passed like this, for eight sun-ups. I rarely went far inland, for it made my tail ache afterwards, and wild animals could still hunt on land where I was clumsy. The loneliness of the island was a painful mockery of my past, with mermaid sisters that used to play with me, the naivety we were in before we witnessed death close up. A siren had instinct for company, and even if I was the odd one out who sometimes wandered away for some time alone, the times between them were fun and laughter filled. It made my heart ache to remember. Had my sisters become immortal with the men they lured? Or did they have to lure more?

How whiny my mind could still be. I had brought this lonely, silent exile upon myself.

Those first few days were uneventful. On the evening of the ninth night though, as I was lingering in the ocean waves on a rock platform, something swam close by. It was a snake, dark blue with a smooth pale yellow underbelly and tiny points on its crown in the form of a star. Its strange, black, cold eyes glared at me. It was rather familiar…

Suddenly I remembered. There were tales of a snake that belonged to Hera, wife of the almighty god Zeus, which did her bidding for revenge against other women that promiscuous Zeus had slept with. But I had done nothing to offend the jealous goddess Hera, so it could not be for me.

Still the serpent stared with its cruel predatory eyes.

"I have done nothing to offend your mistress," I told it. It hissed venomously, and I hastily backed away. It moved with me, and I stopped, watching it cautiously. Why was it following me? It was the honest truth that I had not done anything to offend Hera in any way. Maybe deserting the school had offended her, but she had little to do with the business of sirens.

My tail coiled around itself in a tight spiral out of nervous (or tense) habit. My scales gleamed softly in the faint moonlight. Another sea serpent, this one a smaller, ordinary one the same colour as my tail, rose up beside Hera's servant. Both went after a fish which had strayed too close, and they ripped it to shreds in seconds. Then the larger serpent proceeded to gobble all of the fish, and the other, smaller serpent, whole. It turned to look at me afterwards, folds of its skin bulging as it digested what it ate. Its flickering tail whacked a few random things to me, pebbles, sand, and a rather large piece of wood, probably from a shipwreck.

I stared, feeling sick.

The serpent gave a low, final hiss, and swam away, into the shadows of the ocean. I leaned back against a boulder, breathing fast. Oh gods, what had that been about?

Had that been a warning?

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The next morning I examined what Hera's serpent had thrown at me with its tail lash the night before, hoping to make sense of the jealous goddess' message.

The pebbles and sand were certainly accidental-they had already been on the ground, and were probably kicked up with the serpent's movements. The small bit of wooden debris, however, the snake had seemed to push from the water. Maybe that was a clue. I inspected it closely, but didn't find much from it.

It was made of a dark, sturdy wood that resisted being completely soaked through by the water, but different material to the normal Greek or Spartan boats. Maybe it was from a foreign spice ship? The piece was probably from the prow, as there was a bit of decoration on the piece of wood. It looked like an eye, but it was outlined in dark blue. The whites of the eye and black of the pupil contrasted starkly. I did not know this symbol-none of my god and goddess relatives used this symbol. Maybe Hera was warning me to be careful of future foreigners? Or to remind me of the problem with Egypt, the nation's divinities that the Greek divinities were not on speaking terms with? There would be no point to that, as this island was isolated, and almost never visited.

All the same, I kept the bit of debris in case I could relate it to something another time. Then a while after Helios had risen with gentle pink and pale gold streaks, I went to look for breakfast.

Breakfast for a siren would consist of a lot of sea food. _Live_ sea food, wriggling and all. I, being the odd one out disliked eating something still alive. It seemed cruel to eat it while still alive. Unfortunately, I had no means to kill animals-I wasn't even sure if I had the courage to kill them with my bare hands. So instead I was a bit of a vegetarian, unless the animal was already dead, but still good and not decomposing. It was so rare; I was almost a full vegetarian, with my diet of mainly kelp, seaweed, and sometimes plants and herbs from the land. I only ever remembered eating this delicious roast lamb meat at a nymph's wedding that sirens were invited to. Such a beautiful event it was, with the nymph more glorious looking then I had ever seen her to be. She had been glowing with happiness. We siren sisters dreamed of one day being as happy as her.

That couldn't be my dream anymore-pity, but this came with my self-imposed exile.

Until mid morning, I usually swam and darted among the flat rocks or looked for animals to play with. I had once been fortunate enough to come across a heard of playful seals. This particular day I decided instead to hunt for any beaches I had not yet seen. There were quite a few, but very small ones. Few were large beaches, but all were beautiful and golden. Some were darker gold while others were more orange gold. I swam onto the beaches, resting on warm sands that were dry, clean from human debris of wooden planks and nets. It had been warmed by the sun, and was pleasant against the coolness of my skin.

For a while, I lay there, half-dozing, until I heard distant scratching and rustling coming from the bushes. I immediately pushed off into the water, cursing myself for my carelessness. That could have been a bear, about to go fishing. It would have come across a rather large version of a fish then. Swimming back to the original beach that I lived near, I was about to go to the shallows when something on the normally empty beach stopped me.

Sandy and bedraggled, shallow waves washing over the curled form, was a man.

_A man._

I stared, shocked. This island was meant to be deserted, and then all of a sudden there was a person on the beach, and even worse (or better-no!) a man. How could he have come? I would have seen a ship heading for Lemnos. The only way he could end up here without my notice was if he was washed up by the waves.

There was something wrong with him. He was lying so still on his stomach; he looked almost dead if it hadn't been for the uneven moving of his chest. His garments were soaked, and as I swam closer, breathing unevenly, I was aware of a foul stench coming from him.

I grew worried. He was only out cold, right? It wasn't necessary for me to come, hopefully. I really didn't know how far my self restraint could go against my siren instinct. Should he just be left there, or should I check on him?

The decision was made when a vulture (the rustling I heard before from it) flew down, waiting for the poor man to die.

"Shoo!" I yelled loudly, and the bird flew away, startled. I hauled myself next to the man as quickly as possible, and then hesitated. Damn being so nervous of the opposite sex, damn being isolated. Damn for having a siren's instinct right now.

Rallying my resolve, I reached out a determined hand and pushed him flat onto his back. His breathing was shallow and uneven, indicated by his chest, his head hot to the touch. I wasn't sure how warm a human was meant to be, as my own skin was always cooler to touch than a human's, but I was sure it was abnormally warm for this young man now. The disgusting stench came from his leg, just above his knee. Two puncture holes were there, oozing an unclean, milky mixture of blood and puss. So that was it, he had been bitten by a sea serpent.

Fear suddenly struck me. Maybe this was what Hera had warned me of! She had warned me not to help this man, who was obviously a foreigner due to his tan skin. But why? Was he a criminal? I didn't think so. His clothes were not ones I was used to seeing on humans, but the cloth was not rough to touch, just sturdy and good for travelling. Amazingly his violet travelling cape still clung to his shoulders, and tangled around his body, making movement difficult in that position. No, his clothing indicated he was rich, maybe a foreign noble. The last part was a subconscious thought, as I hesitated, still torn on whether to save him or not. Hera's warning was clear and fresh in my mind-helping this man would anger her no doubt, since her snake was being so…hungry. Yet this man was going to die if he did not receive help.

I suddenly remembered what I was on this island for. As penance for being involved with the killing of those sailors, and to keep a clean honour. I came here to avoid harming others. Yet this man was going to die if I didn't help. Letting this man die without helping him would be as big a guilty stain as the sailors that died, before my sisters and I visited Mother Dora. How was that honourable?

I could honestly and proudly say that my siren instinct was momentarily squashed.

The stranger's leg wound was still open-that would be the first thing to take care of. At least he was still breathing. I had seen how some land animals lick their wounds. I doubted the stranger would take kindly to that if he were to suddenly wake up though. Maybe that technique was used for cleaning, or soothing. I gently trailed my fingers around the wound. The slight pressure of my hand made more of the disgusting white-red pus ooze out. So it was used for pressure! Salt water cleaned my wounds, and would surely clean his too.

I went back between the clean sea water out further, and the man, pressing his wound and cleaning away the repulsive pus with salt water until the blood ran ruby red and freely. I felt a bit sick looking at it pour out, but pushed the feeling back. I ripped off some of the bottom of my kelp shirt and wrapped the strip around his leg as best as I could, pining it there with a starfish. It stuck, luckily, as if it had heard my pleading prayer.

The tide would rise higher soon, so I dragged the injured man up to higher ground. It was hard with my fishtail becoming clumsy on land, and I was panting by the time I had him under the shade of a nearby tree. Sighing in relief, I brushed some of his blonde locks out of his face. Only when I made sure I had taken care of his potentially fatal injury as best as I could, did I let myself take in his appearance.

He had smooth, tanned skin, though not too dark, and right at that moment his tan was pale in his face. His hair was a strange disarray that stood up, red and black with blonde locks falling down. Three of the blonde locks stood up with the rest of his hair like the miniature lightning bolts that Zeus wielded. His body was a bit short admittedly but-I blushed at this-his forearms were thin but sinewy and a little muscular. His chest was broad enough, and his muscles could almost be defined through the soaked white robe. Altogether he was a handsome, slightly bizarre looking man, I couldn't say much else until I observed his behaviour more.

Observed his behaviour? I was thinking too much on this man, when I should have been staying far away from him in the first place. I was deliberately disobeying Hera, and might be punished. Fright bubbled in the back of my head, but I had to save this man first. This was what I had decided. And as soon as he woke up, he would be thirsty and most likely hungry too.

He was in no danger of being ripped to pieces by scavenger birds-I just prayed there were no animals hunting at this moment, for both our sakes. I went further inland to where I found the edge of the villages. The women of Lemnos had grown fruit trees in the rich soil, and now the fruit fell with no one to collect them. I collected some fruits inside a bowl I had washed out, and carried them back to the still unconscious man, setting them down nearby so he could see them when he woke. Then I went back and dragged myself to a freshwater stream. With two other clean, washed bowls, slightly larger then the first, I filled it with as much fresh water as I dared knowing I would spill some of it in the process of going back.

By the time I had come back, nearly a quarter of the water inside each bowl had spilled. Just in case he needed more, I went back for another bowlful of water, and sat the round, wooden bowls in a row. Now it was only a matter of waiting for this stranger to wake up.

I slipped into the water with relief. Water was where I belonged. It was where I should have stayed, had I not decided to help this man. For the next hour or so, I circled a short distance away, peeking behind bushland to supervise him. He would live through the next few hours, I was sure.

As Helios was finishing his descent, throwing out his last, warm orange rays, the man stirred on the sand. I watched from a distance, in the water, mostly submerged. He had survived.

I hoped this good deed would not turn out to be fatal.

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